Friday, November 9, 2012

BRRRRRRRRR: Buzaard Kukkad

Warning: If your not listening to blaring loud music and fist pumping, this will make absolutely no sense.

Im not a drinker but I never let a challenge pass me by either. If you know what I mean. In the highs or a lows the only thing that keeps you from swinging out of control is you. And amidst the frenzy of raspberry chardonnay you let go of the noose that doubles as your leash and all of a sudden you slur, you blurt and you speak in coherently but subconciously; You speak your truth. You reveal troubles, tax issues, tyre problmes, restrictions, reminse the good old days and compare it to a reality that could never stand a chance, be fearless, try new things, proclaim ur dreams or even in my case sing your own songs.

Lost in the noise everything fades, everyones meandered from their path and are pulling at the seams only to rip up the beautiful reality that theyv created for themselves. We struggle to speak our minds fearful of peers, opinions, smirks and disbelief from few who dont even matter. If your sub concious is so smart when its drunk imagine what you can do when your sober, realize your potential and live free minus the peg. Speak your truth, sing your song, everyday let the world know who you are as you discover yourself and be nothing other than that.
So this ones for the little hen who went a little overboard when she got her beak on the old farmers booze. She clucked like a chicken no more, she rose her fear wounded neck skyward and out sprung a fierce battle cry . This ones for you, for me and all the little chickens that we become when life gets too hard, Time to let this Rooster loose.

Buzzard as a word is a derogatory term in my household and an accompanies the door bell on most days when i return late.I on the other hand always wear my tag yeigh high just above my heart on my sleeve. So this recipe you would think is just about like anyone not quite. My plate is made up of four elements and each is as whimsical as me. At the base is a potato galette which is a thin wafer layer of potatoes slowly cooked to a crisp au buerre. This is all the frills, all the layer that we build up that sometimes we think make us special and define us. Next comes the garlic beans; this represents the never ending hunt for glory, power, money, fame and an identity, it represents our staunch sense of envy and pride in our own abilities stackd up and waiting to explode. Next comes the sauce which is us at our best in our tux, gown, make up on and ready for the world, the coke in it represents our sweet, commercial side the one that everyone loves and we think everyone wants to see, a hint of corriander seeds to razzle it up and a splash of tomato paste to liven things up a spritz of lime, simmer it down and reduce to glorious conforming perfection. But under this mask, is you the buzzard kukkad the little fowl with a punch, marinated with the zest of the south indies key lime and with the bennovelent prayer of an Old Monk now is fiery and now is fierce as she steps up to the plate, all pumped and juiced up, golden and crackling good. This is my ode to a good old classic Cuba Libre Chica. Here it is.

Cuba Libre Chica and the chooks

Chicken Breast: 1 number de bonned and deskinned

Chicken supreme (chooks) : 1 number

Olives: 3 numbers

Salt: 10 gms

Lime: 2 numbers

Rum: 1 fearless patiala

beans: 80 gms

Garlic :10 gmsPotato: 1 numberButter: 15 gms

Coca Cola: 30 ml

Tomato puree: 10 Gms

Corriander seeds: 5 number

Sugar: 10 Gms

Procedure:
Marinate the chicken in rum, lemon zest, lime and salt overnight.
Blacnh beans and toss with slivered garlic in butter
Meantime peel and slice the potato on a mandolin layer to form a galette layer alternatively to form a circle, crisp in a nonstick pan with butter.
Flatten the supreme and stuff with three olives roll tightly and flash in a hot pan.
Reduce Coco Cola and tomato puree in a pan with corriander seeds and sugar.
Plate up:)
Grab a talented photographer Ruel Rebello and head to a brightly lit teraace to go shutter crazy.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Cuba Libre Chica and the 3 chooks.

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About Me

Incoherently, meticulously and truly unintentionally from the heart, it’s not a mumble even if it’s jumbled. If you’re hungry and you’re lost grab a map, a fork cos I’m heading your way.
A chef, a lost cause, this fine line called sanity can be skewered only so much before it finally clucks. From tempura covered shoes to, scars, near amputated digits, Bhagara Masala aprons and puttanesca dreams. My rides just begun.
My expectations may sometimes be followed by a sharp screech and a double helping of “DOH” oh so beautifully deboned by reality but that’s never doused the flame just got it brighter.
The choice is yours you can Dine or Hide.